By 4.30pm on Sunday the CEO of TenTen, Sam Bradley, clearly had a full-blown migraine as he addressed the room filled with accountants, lawyers, spin doctors and corporate suits.
“Gentlemen, thank you for coming here tonight. I’ve spoken with many of you since Friday and appreciate your loyalty. First of all, we have two members of the state’s finest here with us, so if you have any idea of who could have killed Jimbo, please talk to them after this meeting.
“Tomorrow will be hard for all of us, because we don’t know which way the market will go after Friday afternoon’s dive. I want to assure you that we have a solid succession plan and it will be business as usual tomorrow. I need not tell you that we have to present a united front, and I know that Jimbo…” He droned on, oblivious to the shuffling feet and soft coughs. “We have prepared a release for the Stock Exchange and the press, and there will be a Q & A sheet for you all so that we are all singing the same song. Now, are there any questions? Bob?” He pointed to a figure at the back of the room.
“So what happened, Sam?” Not exactly the most original question of the day, but everyone was quiet waiting for the answer.
“The post-mortem will be held as soon as possible. All I know so far is that he was shot three times by a person or persons unknown. Don’t know why. We think that someone was with him at the time, but so far the police have come up with fucking nothing. Zilch. We just have to wait for them to do their fucking jobs. And meanwhile, we have to do our jobs, which is to keep TenTen on fucking track.”
“Yeah, but what happens with the company? Who gets to control the voting? What if Jace takes the reins? What if one of the girls starts to think that she knows how to run a company? What if Jacs rocks the boat?” There was more interest now, as the spectre of loss of control of the voting stock surfaced. I could see them thinking: was now the time to jump? Or wait until the bonuses were announced? That is, if there were any profits left to divvy up.
My time with the Fraud Squad taught me that corporate loyalty can be tightly linked to corporate bonuses, and private school fees can’t be paid by a corporate loyalty cheque. On the other hand, some might see Friday’s share price dip as an opportunity to buy. But then, I’ve never really understood the stock market.
Then, the killer question was asked.
“What does the will say? Who gets his shares?” “What does the will say?” Bradbury groaned and closed his eyes. “Off the record, this is going to be the biggest fucking shitfight in the history of succession law.”